


Like A Virgin

by HaveAGoodeDay



Category: Glee
Genre: Brotp, Canon Compliant, Canon Lesbian Character, First Time, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Internalized Homophobia, Multi, Season/Series 01, Sex Toys, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-19
Updated: 2018-04-26
Packaged: 2019-04-25 03:46:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14370228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HaveAGoodeDay/pseuds/HaveAGoodeDay
Summary: Like a Virgin.Touched for the very first time...Finn Hudson loses his virginity to Cheerio, Santana Lopez. Only, she's really not into it.(This is not a FINN/SANTANA romance story.)





	1. Part I

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!
> 
> First off, this is my BrOTP. Not romantic at all, so don't run away fellow lesbians! This is more an expansion on when Santana took Finn's virginity, and how her internalized struggles with her own sexuality affected it.

__Kissing Quinn was like, kissing feathers, feathers that tasted like sugar-flavored lip gloss though. Light and sweet and just light enough to be teasing.

In contrast, Santana won’t really _kiss_ him. She keeps nibbling his jaw and all that hot stuff, but he really wants to know what she tastes like.

 _Probably_ salt.

He shakes his head, tells himself to focus because one of the hottest girl’s in school wants to take his virginity and she’s straddling his hips and wearing a lavender colored slip that feels cool to the touch and is riding high on her thighs.

Her lips smack when she pulls away from his neck (it’s sore and he’s sure there’ll be a mark tomorrow) and sits up to look down on him.

“Can I kiss you?” Finn asks, a little desperate because she’s pressing down on him and he can feel himself getting a little too… _excited_.

 _Mailman_.

Santana’s eyes turn into a cold glare and her voice is bitter when she answers, “No.”

The question of _why_ dies on the quarterback’s tongue as she leans over and bends off the bed, her hand searching through the purse she’d thrown there when they’d arrived. The clothing on her exposes tanned things rides up and he can see the black lace of her panties clinging to the curve of her ass when she’s leaning like this.

Her long dark hair flips back when she straightens out to sit up on him again, her hands hold a purple…

Hold on.

“Is that a vibrator?”

She doesn’t move her head to look up, but her eyes flicker up and she watches him as she holds the toy.

“Yup.”

Finn can’t help but feel awkward, this is _nothing_ , sex without feelings and it’s not like they even _like_ each other.

“Do you _have_ to use it?” He questions, scratching the back of his neck as she bristles in his lap, the headboard behind him starting to make his neck sore. “It’s just, I wanted my first time to be real.”

He motions to the medium sized toy, “And if you use that, all your feelings will be fake.”

Santana stares at him, not glaring, not angry, just stares for a good minute before she shakes her head like she’s clearing a foggy thought.

“Listen _Pillsbury_ , I don’t know where you think that you have a say considering, you know, there isn’t going to be a penis going _into_ you.”

He cringes.

“Unless you’re into that.” Her tone is biting, “Then, well, you’re going to be sorely disappointed when I take my underwear off.”

She’s all rough edges and toughness but he notices the way her hands tremble on the toy and he notices the small clear bottle next to it, resting in her palm.

She nearly throws the two things on his chest, and he sees the bottle’s label easily now.

Lube.

Finn’s regretting this even more by the minute. He’d done his research, ok? It’s not like he planned on going in blind. The few informative sites that didn’t beg for his subscription to cam girls had guided his education in the female body.

Except, Santana isn’t breathing heavy like him and she’s busy popping the cap off the bottle and squirting the runny lube onto her purple friend.

She sits up, on her knees to hover above him and not-so-seductively twists to take her panties off, a little smug when his jaw drops even though the lavender fabric still hides the important parts.

Then she presses some buttons and the toy comes to life, buzzing away in her hand as she just brings it in between her thighs and uses her other palm to support herself on the center of his chest.

“ _Wait_.” Finn demands, reaching down to hold her hand away from her center and she looks at him with confused eyes. “I want to do it.”

She opens her mouth to protest.

“ _Please_.” Finn begs, “I don’t want you to feel like this is a chore.”

Santana is still, so is her breathing, but she relents with a nod and letting him take the toy from her. Without having to guide the vibrations herself, she can place her elbows on either side of his rib cage and lean down with her cheek pressed in the center of his chest like her palm had been.

She’s kneeling, basically, on her knees and elbows above him and Finn hears her breath out nervously when he lets the silicone touch her there.

The motel room is quiet and he’s way too turned on by the wet buzzing noise echoing around the room. But he worries because she’s so silent and still and God, this was the worst idea he ever had.

Because Quinn was a prude, sure, but she at least was into it a little.

Santana feels like dead weight.

“A little harder.” She whimpers, and he realized her hips are actually jumpy, trying to grind down into the sensations. But her voice is soft and scared and so not Santana his hand stutters in it’s slow circles.

She grunts, barely, and is gripping the sheets hard.

Sex with Santana, he thought, was not like this in his head or like, in his dirty dreams when he was 14 and she was a freshman cheerio. She’s shaking and he can’t tell if it’s good or bad, because she’s grinding into the toy but the only nose he can hear from her is little sniffles.

Which he convinces himself is good, even though it doesn’t settle right in his stomach.

Her hips get erratic and his knuckles bump against her and mailman, _mailman_ , **_mailman_** …

She groans, above him and her legs twitch and she calls out,

“ _Brittany_.”


	2. Part II

_“Brittany!”_

Finn can hear the cars and semi-trucks passing on the street outside, dim streetlights shining through the blinds. And Santana, crying into his chest.

A blubbering mess, who called out her best friend’s name while having sex with him. And that friend is a _girl_.

Finn might be dumb at times, but things are really starting to click in place. Santana is shaking, her arms barely able to hold her up as she goes to sit on his lap instead of laying against him.

“Santana…” He starts, throat dry.

“Don’t.” She warns, even if she’s still kind of crying, but the tears have (mostly) stopped. “You _don’t_ talk.”

He doesn’t think he could right now, when she reaches down into his pants and _grabs_.

She gives him a few good pumps, not that he wasn’t ready, before pushing the fabric down enough to release him from the garment.

She straightens her back and he swears she mumbles under her breath, “I’m not gay.”

Finn groans when she sinks down in his length, her hips going in a circle motion when he’s fully inside.

“I’m _not_ gay.” She hisses out, pushing herself up, and then dropping. Repeating the action again, and again, and _again_.

“Wait I’m- I’m- crap, no condom-“

Finn nearly chokes on his own tongue when she sits up and finishes him off with her hand, letting his cum spray against the fabric on her lower stomach.

She’s looking down at it with disgust, ignoring him completely as she rolls off and onto the far side of the bed.

“I’m on the pill.” She mumbles into the motel pillow.

“But-“ He looks a little panicked, “What about diseases?”

She looks a bit offended but tired enough to let him off with a, “Don’t worry about it, doughboy.”

“Oh, ok.”

The silence is deafening, and Finn recovers by pulling his pants up and following Santana as she sits up against the headboard.

..

They end up sitting in the car outside of McDonald’s eating big macs and staring at the few people walking in and out of the building at this hour.

She hasn’t even insulted him since. Finn’s pretty sure this is the longest she’s gone without flinging an insult his way since they met.

“Are you going to tell anyone?” She asks, after taking a long sip from her sweet tea.

She’s back to the hard exterior but Finn can she her eyes water and he knows she’s not asking if he’ll brag about banging her.

“No, I won’t.” The boy assures her.

It takes her a moment, but she wipes her eyes and quietly says, “Thank you.”

“I’ll take you home, now, if you want.”

“Can you-“ Santana halts her words, unsure before just getting it out, “Can you drop me off at Brittany’s?”

He knows where it is from driving Quinn there regularly, farther than Santana own home. Finn just nods.

About 20 minutes later, she’s unbuckling her seat belt and going to open the car door when he spots Brittany on her porch, blonde hair up and duck pajamas on.

Finn grips the wheel and tells the girl getting out, “If you ever need anything, you call me.”

Santana spins her head to look at him, “Huh?”

He looks over and meets her eyes, “I know you think everyone is out to get you, but I think everyone in Glee would be happy for you.”

He tilts his head toward Brittany, waiting in the steps, “And her.”

Santana frowns, like she wants to fight it, but instead sighs and,

“One day, Hudson.”

 

 


End file.
